


Can you feel the fear?

by DelilahBlake



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Fear, M/M, Monster - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2033886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelilahBlake/pseuds/DelilahBlake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean have always been hunters, they know things other people don't dare dream. But they also have fears other people would never have. Dean has always known what being an adult is like, ever since he was four years old and had to take care of little Sammy. He also knows what it is like to be terrified. But never had fear been so dangerous before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first Supernatural fanfic I've ever written, which I would never have written if it weren't for a very special person in my life. 
> 
> I, whoever, used the right every author has as to change situations as it suits him/her the best. Spoilers for season 7! In here, Castiel did not join forces with Crowley whatsoever, but Dick and his group are indeed a very real problem for the Winchesters. Bobby, however, is dead. - I wish he weren't, tho. Too sad to write him into this without him being really alive.
> 
> For her.

Prologue.

How in the world had he ended up in here? He looked around, trying in vain to recognize the place that served as his prison but it was darker than anything he had seen before.

"Sam?" He called, trying desperately to undo the ropes that held him captive. "Sam!" Louder this time. His voice echoed through the walls, the way it does when a room is completely empty, the sound bouncing against the naked walls. Which was probably the case.

"Dean?" The voice was barely above a whisper, but it was all Dean needed. It wasn't Sam's.

"Who are you?" He stopped fighting his bindings for a second, focusing on his surroundings. He could see no movements, but it was probably due to the total darkness. He couldn't hear a thing, either. Not even the wind he could certainly feel against his face every now and then.

"Dean? Is that you?" This time, the voice was stronger. It took Dean a second to pair that voice with a face.

"Cas?"

"What is this place?"

"You are the angel, why don't you tell me? "

"Dean?"

"Cas? Can you hear me, buddy?"

"Dean! Are you there? Dean!" Dean did not need to see his friend's face to know, he could hear the pain in his voice.

"Cas! Can you hear me?" He was almost yelling now, the echo hurting his ears.

There was no answer.

Anxiety took over Dean's body, making him fight stronger than ever against his restrains.

"Cas!" He shouted, but no sound came out of his mouth. "Cas!" He tried again, louder. Still no sound came out.


	2. 72 Hours Earlier

This is the first Supernatural fanfic I've ever written, which I would never have written if it weren't for a very special person in my life. She knows who she is without telling, therefore I won't mention her name. I, whoever, used the right every author has as to change situations as it suits him/her the best. Spoilers for season 7! In here, Castiel did not join forces with Crowley whatsoever, but Dick and his group are indeed a very real problem for the Winchesters. Bobby, however, is dead. - I wish he weren't, tho. Too sad to write him into this without him being really alive.

For her,

I hope you seriously enjoy this little piece of my mind I turned into words just for you. You might be wondering why I did not include your name. I think it is more special for you to know who you are even without me mentioning your name, turning you but into a her or she in this small adventure. Sometimes what we don't say talks louder than what we do (: I wrote a character into this story that is based on you, and the amazing way you are. I do hope you find who this character is in due time, but of course, you never use your strongest weapon on the first battle, but until war is on (:

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or Dean or Sam or Castiel or anything else. If I did, Sam would be shirtless 120% of the time, and Dean and Castiel would be to busy making out to actually save the world. (:

72 hours earlier...

"I will have the turducken sandwich, please" Ordered Dean, handing the waiter the menu and turning back to the newspaper he had been reading.

"Turducken sandwich, Dean? Seriously? After what happened? Also, is 9 a.m." Half-whispered, half-shouted Sam as soon as the waiter was out of earshot, in that way only he can manage.

"We already dealt with those stoned-sandwiches, okay? And it was delicious, mister salad-lover"

"At least I won't die of a heart-attack. And I ordered eggs."

"Whatever. If I'm gonna die before I turn 40 anyway, I might as well enjoy it"

But the little brotherly quarrel was interrupted by the waiter bringing them their breakfasts.

"Enjoy your food, sirs"

Both Winchesters began eating without another comment, both shooting each other a nasty glance every now and then.

"Found anything on the newspaper?" Asked Sam finally, already finishing his breakfast.

"Not much. Murder-suicide of a couple down in Oklahoma, but it doesn't seem like our thing"

"What happened?"

"He cheated. He is dead"

"Okay... anything else?"

Dean looked at the newspaper again; looking for something he might have missed during the first four times he had read it.

"Jack squat. What about you, any luck?"

Sam stared at his laptop screen and sighed. Dean had been all grumpy since they lost sight of Dick a couple weeks ago, and didn't even bother to look for any new cases. For instance, he was looking at the politics page of the newspaper, which he never did, instead of the crime one. "A woman died of a heart-attack"

"Seems normal to me"

"She was 19 years old."

That got Dean's attention. He slowly placed his half-eaten enormous sandwich to stare at his brother.

"Heart disease?"

"Not according to her records. Fourth heart attack in less than a month, all from relatively healthy people. Youngest was 18, oldest was 34. Think this is our thing?"

"Where is it?" Dean was going through the motions, but Sam knew his brother enough to tell when he was faking it.

"Villisca"

"Iowa? Isn't there where we hunted an axe-murder victim's spirit couple years back? Josiah something?"

"Josiah Moore. Yeah, I think so."

"Well, it's only a couple hour drive down there, we might as well check it out"

"Let's go" Agreed Sam, packing his laptop while his brother finished the sandwich in a giant bite, sending little crumps everywhere and left a $10 dollars bill on the table.

Sam winced at his brother, but kept his mouth shut.

"Hurry up, gianormous" Called Dean from the door of the diner, a big, fake smile on his face.

Sam rolled his eyes but followed his brother to the Impala anyway.

After two hours and a half of driving and the occasional snore from the youngest of the Winchesters brothers, they boys arrived to Villisca. Dean drove directly to a filthy-looking motel on the side of the road, Sam still asleep on the passenger seat.

A light smile forced its way into Dean's face. It had been a long time since Sam had last been able to sleep, especially in a moving car with old rock music and Dean's singing voice as a lullaby. For an instance, Dean was back in time where all they had to fight were killable demons and spirits, back when Bobby and Dad had been alive. Back when so many people had been alive... The smile was soon replaced with a thin line of tension, his brows slightly furrowed. Would they be able to fight and win against Dick Roman and his kind?

He remembered one of the last conversations he had had with Bobby before... well, before.

How many more hits can we take? He had yelled that, but not quite believe it. Not matter what he and his brother got themselves into; they always found a way to make it work. Hell, they were still alive and that was more than enough proof. But now he wondered what the answer to that might be. And it frightened him that the answer to that might be a single-digit number.

Dean shook himself from his thoughts and placed his hand slightly on his brother's shoulder, shaking him up.

"We are here, Sammy. What do you wanna do first?"

Sam brushed the sleepiness off his eyes with the back of his hands and stared at the motel neon sign. 'All Token Inn Motel' shone in red lights in front of his eyes. He rose his eyebrows at his brother, but Dean just dismissed the unspoken question with a hand movement.

"Well... the morgue, I guess" The youngest of the Winchester boys was all business now, being taught his whole life to go into alert mode into a second, no sign of sleepiness left on him, aside from the marks the seat had left on his right cheek.

Dean nodded at his brother, taking a look at his watch.

"If we change in under 10 minutes, we might still be able to get there before it's closed"

After a lifetime of practice, both Winchesters were on their way to the Morgue in 8 minutes, already in FBI clothes.

The morgue was a small building made out of red bricks, with a small wooden desk for the receptionist and three chairs in a row on the left side of the hall, that apparently worked as the waiting room.

An old woman sat by the desk, her white hair up in a tight bun held in place by a headband. Her dark green eyes looked small behind her orange horn rim cat glasses. An orange shawl covered her shoulders and the most part of her pink dress. She looked at the Winchesters in a bored kind of way, chewing her gum in a way that everyone knew exactly what she was chewing.

"Hello, ma'am... Mildred." Said Dean, leaning forward on the desk, reading the name from her nametag, showing her a bright, big smile and his fake-badge. "I'm agent Smith, this is my partner, agent Rose."

"It's Mrs. Gardoni, young man" She said sourly, her voice raspy and low.

Dean was taken aback by her attitude, but quickly recovered and continued to smile as bright as humanly possible, which only make it look like a grimace. "Well, Mrs Gardoni... We are here about the death of 19-year-old Isabella Donovan"

Sam smiled at the old woman in an effort to keep himself from laughing at his brother and showed his fake-badge as well, then went back to looking at the rest of the room. Apparently, the receptionist had taken decoration in her own hands, since there were pictures of the same three cats in all walls.

"Didn't she die of a heart-attack?" Asked Mrs. Gardoni, going through her papers. "Well, I guess the FBI's got its reasons." She looked at Dean suspiciously, even taking her glasses off. Dean only nodded. "Go on ahead, the doctor is still there." She pointed to a room at the end of the hall, with a bright smile of her own that she directed solely at Sam, once she got a good luck at him. Dean could have sworn he saw her wink.

Both brothers nodded and thanked her, before following the path the woman had signaled them.

"Norman Bates' mother was totally flirting with you" Teased Dean.

"Yeah, and you flirted with her" Recounted Sam, opening the door for both of them.

Inside, they found a very short doctor sewing up the body of young Isabella Donovan.

"Just a second" He mumbled without turning back, still working on his latest ... patient. "What a shame, this accidents" The doctor said, no longer mumbling.

"Accidents?" Asked Sam, stepping into the office.

"Well, I don't know what to call them, really. Four heart attacks in a month? You don't see that everyday. Accident seems to be the best term, since there are no common factors" For the first time the doctor turned around, facing the boys. He was rather short, barely taller than 5"2, with big blue eyes and short brown hair. He looked 40 at the most, but his eyes told a different story, as if his soul was much older than his body. Dean realized that was probably the way he looked, too. As did every other hunter. But he noticed something else, too; the man did look either of them in the eye, instead focusing on anything else near him. Liar.

Sam had been saying something; Dean could listen to his voice, but couldn't make out the words. He was probably making up an excuse as to why the FBI would be interested in a case like this. Which is no case at all.

"Doctor," He interrupted finally, earning a nasty look from his brother, which quickly turned into one of confusion. Dean was no looking at the man in front of them, or at his brother, but at the girl that lay dead on the table.

"Yes, agent?" His voice was squeaky now. He was getting nervous.

"Is there anything else you would like to tell us?" Dean turned to face the doctor, wearing his best 'bad cop' face, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Excuse me?" He was shaking now.

Sam looked at the doctor, then at his brother, then at the doctor, then back at his brother. "What?" He mouthed, so only Dean would get the message. With the slightest head movement, Dean signaled to the file on the edge of the table, all the information of the autopsy already on it. Which is impossible if the doctor was sewing up the girl.

"Doctor, was there a need to do a second autopsy?" Asked Sam finally, going through the files on the table, reading as much as he could in as little time.

The doctor looked as if he was about to faint, color suddenly drained from his body. "I...uh. I was just looking at the body one more time, detective. To see if there was anything I missed the first time. Like I told you, this is very weird."

"Yes, of course" Answered Sam. If the man was such a bad liar, and the victims were dying of heart attacks, then there was no need to press matters any further. "Would you mind if we take a look at the body?"

"Knock yourselves out" And with that, the small man left the room, still slightly shaking.

Dean looked at the retreating figure, still wondering what the little scene was all about.

"Are you going to stand there or are you going to come here and help me?" Sam's voice was strained, and when Dean looked he saw that he was trying to move the body all by himself.

"Woah, woah, woah. What are you trying to do, steal a corpse?"

"Don't be an idiot, Dean. I'm trying to turn her around" He said this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which, to Dean, it was not. However, he knew that look in his brother's eyes, so he rushed to help.

"What are we looking for?" Asked Dean, all business now, looking at the woman's body. There were no bruises on her skin, or any kind of marks really, aside from the small blue rose tattoo on the back of her neck.

"A puncture wound" Answered Sam, looking closely at the girl's arm.

"As in needle?"

"As in anything. Teeth, needle, horn. Healthy people don't just drop dead, Dean. Something is going on" Dean looked at his brother, question in his eyes.

"Are you saying this is our kind of thing?"

"I think so" Sam finally let go of the woman's arm. "There's nothing" He ran his hands through his long hair in confusion, his eyes fixed on the woman but his mind focused on what he had just read.

"So...no 'puncture wound'. What does that mean?" Dean rounded the table, taking the files and reading them himself, trying to figure out what was going on in Sam's head. "Okay, what the hell does 'Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy' mean? I'm pretty sure he just made it up.

"It's also known as the 'Broken Heart Syndrome'. It means the left ventricle, the main pumping chamber of the heart, is weakened. The blood is not pumped the way it should be, and it feels like a heart attack."

"Okay, college boy, I thought your major was law?"

"I read that, Dean. In a book" Sam looked at the files in Dean's hands and nodded. "Let's go. Bring those, I'll ask for a copy"

Dean looked at the weird words on the document and nodded, following his brother out of the cold room they were in, wondering what the hell a broken heart had to do with the kind of things they hunted.


	3. Broken Heart Syndrome

"I brought dinner." announced Dean through a mouthful, closing the room door of their room with the back of his foot, a box of greasy pizza on one hand, a cold bottle of beer on the other. Sam, who was sitting on his bed, typing furiously on his laptop, seemed oblivious to his brother's presence. "Dude, diner. Pizza." He repeated, taking another enormous bite off his pizza slide, his happiness comparable to that of a child waiting for Santa for the first time. Pizza had that effect on Dean.

"Just a minute" Sam called, raising a finger and reading something. He had been like that for the last hour, not even sharing what he knew with his brother.

"What can possible be more important than pizza?" Asked Dean finally, placing the pizza box on a nearby table.

At this, Sam raised his graze from the laptop to look at his brother as if he had just grown a second head. Dean used his peripheral vision just to make sure he hadn't.

"People dying?" He offered finally, when he realized Dean was serious.

"It's a heart attack, Sammy. Is there some kind of monster that can cause that?"

Sam sighed and put his laptop aside. "I don't know, I really don't know" He looked exhausted and defeated. He massaged his eyes slightly, which made Dean notice the fact that they were incredibly red. The older Winchester sighed and made his way over there, not sure if his brother had really found a clue or was trying to get his mind off things, like Bobby or the Leviathans. Or both.

"What do you do know?" Insisted Dean, sitting next to him on the bed and handing him a slide of pizza and his beer, the kid needed some sugar.

"This people were poisoned by..."

"Poisoned? That doesn't sound demon-y to me, Sam. They much rather just gut them. Or eat them. Or, you know... messy, bloody, that kinda shit." Babbled Dean, looking at the screen in front of them, an article on Voodoo curses stared back at him.

Being a more civilized human than his brother, Sam waited until he had nothing in his mouth to answer. "They were poisoned by their own bodies, Dean." With this, he took a long sip of the beer and handed it back to his brother. "You didn't get me a beer"

"Last time, you brought me cake. Pie and cake are not the same." Dean could be such a baby sometimes. But right now, Sam was more focused on the case than his brother being a jerk. Also, he made a mental note NOT to get his brother a pie next time. The princess could get it himself.

"I think these people died of fear." He said finally, shutting his laptop in exasperation, letting his body fall back on the bed, eyes closed.

"Are you trying to tell me that fear can kill you?" Dean was completely dumbfounded. He had heard of a million weird ways to die, none of them were out of shear fear.

"Yes, Dean, that is exactly what I'm saying" Answered Sam, rolling his eyes and eating his pizza. Dean thought his brother looked stupid sprawled in bed like that, with his endless legs hanging from the side of the bed, but decided to keep his mouth shut.

"I didn't know that was real. I always though it was some stupid expression or something"

"It's rare, actually. Also, it usually seems to take quite a while, but... Yeah, I think this people are dying out of fear." He managed to keep his eyes open long enough to stare at his brother, as if expecting him to tell him he was just being stupid, that it was impossible. Truth is, Sam had only mentioned the case to take his head off Bobby and the fact that Dick was still a million steps ahead, but now it looked like it was one of their things. When he saw the confused expression on Dean's face, he started to explain. "When you are frightened, like really, really frightened, your body starts to produce epinephrine, that's adrenaline, making the heart bit faster. When this happens, the heart's rhythm gets all messed up, putting stress on..." Sam knew the blank stare on Dean's face all too well; he understood nothing. Sam sighed. He himself didn't really understand it either; he had actually had to look up a lot of terms to finally make sense of it. "Long story short, your body stats to get poisoned by adrenaline and then it just shuts down. Normally that's treatable but it seems like this people just don't get a chance, the adrenaline keeps on spreading all around until it kills them"

Dean roamed the information, trying to make some sense out of it. "That actually makes sense. But doesn't your body stop the adrenaline? Isn't it supposed to be smart or something?"

Sam nodded. "It is, Dean. This is a defense mechanism. It's just... I don't know, I had never seen this before"

"What was that about voodoo you were reading? Think we will find some kind of spell in her house?" The oldest of the Winchesters took the files again, trying to look for something that Sam might have overlooked the first time. Or the second. Or the tenth. But the only thing he accomplished was getting cheese and tomato sauce all over the pages.

"Not really. Some voodoo cases seemed to be really deaths by fear; People were so scared someone had cursed them that they were slowly killing themselves without realizing it. This kind of death is way more common in animals, but there are some cases with humans"

"And something that can cause that amount of fear..."

"... has got to be our kind of thing. Yes" Finished Sam, taking another bite from his pepperoni pizza that had long since gotten cold.

"I know a lot of things that can cause that amount of... wait. Did you read this?"

"What?" Asked Sam, alert once again, although his eyes were still red and a little puffy.

"There were only three liters of blood left on the body. You don't bleed out when you have a heart attack."

"They didn't really die of a heart-attack" Corrected Sam immediately, not really meaning to. "I read about that, too. But we found no wound on her. Neither Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy nor Rhabdomyolysis, that's when the muscles get torn and cause the body to get poisoned, cause that blood loss. It seems to be the piece that doesn't fit."

Dean closed his eyes and mumbled something about "stupid braniac" and "college boy". Sam ignored him and took his brother's distraction to his advantage and took the beer for himself. If Dean noticed, he didn't show.

"Dude, what are you doing? You look constipated"

"Shut up, Sam. I'm trying to call Cas"

"By looking constipated?"

"By praying, you bitch"

"How can Cas help us, anyway?"

"He is an angel, Sam. He is supposed to know things, okay? "

Sam looked at his brother making stupid faces while trying to call Castiel. The angel had been so busy lately he very rarely answered Dean's calls, and almost none from Sam. Which Sam found was discriminatory, really.

This time, however, nothing happened.

"I think he might be breaking up with you" Teased Sam, leaving the bed for the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

"Shut up!" Dean growled from the room. Sam tried to smile, like he would have on a normal situation, but his face refused to cooperate. With a sigh, he washed his faced and returned to his brother.

"I don't know what to do" Admitted Dean, going through John's old journal. "There's nothing here"

"I am at a loss, too. I don't seem to find anything on the Internet on things that kill with fear. I will hit the library tomorrow."

Dean nodded and headed for his bed, his body already numb from exhaustion.

* * *

 

Knock, knock.

Groan.

Knock, knock. Faster this time.

Sam opened his eyes slowly, adjusting to the darkness in the room. Green digits from the alarm clock told him it was 3 in the morning. Great. Just great. Who could it possibly be?

Dean's arm slowly snaked to the knife he kept hidden under his pillow, but Sam noticed before he could even reach the handle.

"It's only me, Dean"

Instantly, Dean's back relaxed and he went back to sleep.

Grabbing a shirt from somewhere on the floor, Sam headed for the door but tripped with Dean's boots that he always left lying around. With a grunt Sam threw them at his brother's face but he just changed position. Typical. As long as Dean knew the only person in the room was Sam, he would not wake up, no matter how much noise Sam managed to make.

Knock, knock, knock.

Sam opened the door, ready to yell at whoever dared disturb his sleep, but as soon as he opened the door he froze on his tracks.

"Cas?" He mumbled, unable to believe what his eyes were telling him. Slowly, he rubbed his face, the last traces of sleepiness now gone. The image before him did not change.


	4. Feathery Surprise

Feathery Surprise

“Cas?” He mumbled, unable to believe what his eyes were telling him. Slowly, he rubbed his face, the last traces of sleepiness now gone. The image before him did not change.

On the door stood the angel, his vessel’s face now covered in blood, one of his eyes purple and swollen.

“Oh, crap. Castiel, what happened to you?” Asked Sam, helping his friend into the room. “How did you find us?”

“I... I do not remember, Sam. I woke up two streets down. I saw the Impala. This is the third door I knock on.”

“But... what happened to you? You are bleeding”

“The blue eye is courtesy of your neighbor. He is not a very nice man.”

At the sound of Castiel’s voice Dean woke up, his naked torso half-covered in the almost-transparent sheets of their two-star motel, the dark ink of his tattoo visible even through it. “What’swrong?” Asked Dean, his words barely recognizable from slumber.

“Cas” Was all Sam said. But it was enough to get Dean on his feet.

“He decided to answer the angel phone now?” He grabbed a nearby sweater, one of Sam’s probably, since it was too long, but was interrupted before he had the chance to put it on. 

“I didn’t answer any phone” Came Cas’ voice, strained from the effort it took to move the bruise that was his mouth.

“Dude, I have been calling you for days now.” Dean’s finger was pointing to where the chest of the shadow in front of him should be according to his anatomical knowledge, the other hand still grasping the piece of cloth. “I even learnt a new pr...” He stopped midsentence when he got near enough to Cas and Sam to see what the problem was. “What the hell happened to your face?” In one practiced movement Dean grabbed Castiel’s chin and inspected the rest of his face, analyzing the amount of damage done. Sam recognized the movement; he used to do that for Sam when he was a boy. “It’s not too bad. You do look like shit, tho.” 

“He doesn’t remember it happening” Informed Sam, already going through the contents of his first-aid kit. 

Dean got the sweater on in one fast movement and took the alcohol from Sam’s hand to start disinfecting the numerous wounds on Cas’ face. Freaking angel probably doesn’t even know how to do that, thought Dean when he saw said creature’s lost look. Then he backtracked to what Sam had just said. “What do you mean you don’t remember? Someone beat the crap out of you and you just what... forget about it?”

“Yesterday, I was in London with Gadreel going through some...angel stuff. Then I woke up near here and my face hurts”

“Of course it hurts, you bitch. You are covered in scratches” Dean had to fight against Castiel’s need to avoid pain while Sam bandaged the angel’s hand which, apparently, had been broken.

“Cas, this looks like quiet a fight. Not just an angry neighbor kind of thing” Commented Sam unconsciously, not really realizing he had just given up too much information until Dean gave him a hard look.

“Angry neighbor?”

“Yes, your neighbor hit me in the eye. He didn’t believe I was an angel of the Lord looking for two boys”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Of course he didn’t, Cas. Now, why haven’t you been answering? I get Heaven is going wild with what you...what happened with purgatory but we do have to deal with the Leviathans, you know?”

“Sorry, Dean. I don’t know what is going on, I didn’t hear any of it. ” 

“Like Hell you haven’t! I’ve been calling non-stop for like three days!” It is true Dean had had a hard time forgiving Cas after all that happened, but he also realized he had been through this before. With Sam. Cas had become a friend, maybe something more since all their friends ended up dead and Cas wasn’t yet. And after losing Bobby... he didn’t want to keep losing people. Even if it meant breaking them. Dean sighed and headed back to his bed; he had been trying so hard to avoid thinking about this and now it had happened so smoothly he had hardly noticed it. It hurt Cas to be with them. It broke him. Angels aren’t supposed to care about humans.

“Dean? Is something wrong?” Asked Sam, turning on all the lights. They might as well admit they weren’t going to get any sleep that night.

“Just thinking about the case” Lied Dean, looking at the two men that shared the tiny motel room with him. Couple years back he would have laughed, now... now it seemed like an everyday kind of deal. Privacy was a luxury they hadn’t been able to afford for years now. 

“What case?” Cas’ voice was still a little muffled but he did look better. Since the boys didn’t have ice, he was holding a cold beer against his face. 

It didn’t take long for the Winchesters to put Castiel to date, especially since they knew so little about it all. For a while none of them spoke, too deep in thought in Sam’s case, or at a total loss in Cas’ and Dean’s.

“Hey, maybe it’s the whore.... she reads minds, right?” Said Dean suddenly.

“The whore?” More than a real question it was an accusation. Sam didn’t seem to believe that in the slightest beat.

“Yeah, the whore of, something”

“The whore of Babylonia, Dean. And it’s not her” Both Winchesters looked at the angel in the room. He stared back.

“How do you know that?” 

“Because...I’m an angel”

“That means you have wings, not that you are always right!”

Sam stared at the two men discussing the whore theory.

“She is dead, you two” He said finally. “Dean somehow killed her. Can there be more than one, Cas?”

“Not in such a little amount of time, no. That would be an impossibility”

“Why didn’t you tell me that, instead of the ‘I’m an angel’ bullshit?” Complained Dean. 

Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed a beer. This was getting them anywhere near to solving the case. 

“Maybe whatever it is can read minds, that’s how he/she/it attacks. ” Offered Sam, after a while of thinking.

“Is that possible? To have fear be your only power?”

“Wait.... that sounds familiar.”

“This? Seriously, dude? You are such a geek”

“I read about it somewhere” Said Sam in his defense, as he started looking among the many pages he had printed. 

“Where, Alice in Wonderland?”

“Don’t be silly, Dean That’s from Twilight” Once again, Castiel was the center of attention. Even Sam had stopped looking through his pages.

“How in the world did you even know that, Jabberwocky?” Inquired Dean, trying his best to keep himself from bursting out laughing. Sam was just staring in awe.

“I don’t sleep”

“So you, what? Read fairytales?”

“No, I watched the movie. It was a bad one.”

“... Okay”

“I read it on an asian folklore book.” Sam searched for a little while longer before separating a page from the rest. “Here. They’re called Satori. Japanese demons that can read minds and attack their victims until they drive them insane” 

“You think that’s what we are dealing with?” Asked Dean, taking the page his brother was offering him. He did a quick scan of what was on the page and passed it to Cas. “Maybe whatever it is we are dealing with is the reason why Cas didn’t hear my prayers. Or got used as a boxing sack”

“How do we know if it is a Satori or not?” Wondered Cas out-loud. He had never really been in an investigation full-time, nor had he ever been affected the way he was now. He couldn’t even use his powers to heal himself.

“We... go out there and get as much information we can” Was all Sam could think of, sleep taking over his body once again.

“We can search that tomorrow” Agreed Dean, heading for the bed. “I think New Moon is playing on FOX, Cas. Knock yourself out”

“What is New Moon?”

Both brothers laughed before falling asleep once again, leaving a very confused angel watching over them.


End file.
